Slightly Irregular (33 page)

“She has a lot of friends. We all do.”

Her blue eyes narrowed. “Not according to my surveillance. Now, hand over the brooch.”

I complied.

She examined it, turning it over in her hand several times. “If this is a fake, you’ll be very,
very
sorry.”

“I’m already very, very sorry.”

My sarcasm earned me a slap across the face. It felt as if someone had thrown a boulder at my cheek. My eyes automatically welled with tears.

She duct-taped my wrists behind my back. It felt as if my arms would pop right out of their sockets. “This really isn’t necessary,” I pleaded. “I can’t identify you, and I know Becky and Ellen will keep quiet.”

“Then let’s make it necessary. I’m Gretchen Howell, most recently of the Mass Women’s Correctional Facility. Before that I was Ellen’s stylist, until she killed my brother.”

My mind was trying to stay focused. Nothing I read indicated Ellen Becker was a murderer. I looked over at Ellen as Crazy Gretchen was duct-taping my ankles together. Ellen vehemently shook her head.

“She won’t own what she did, so she has to be taught a lesson,” Gretchen said just before she slapped duct tape over my mouth. “I’m taking this to be authenticated,” she said as she
held up the brooch. Then she looked at me. “This wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t put Ellen’s things on eBay.”

I knew then that I was looking at Tiara64.

“I’ll be back, girls. Make yourselves comfortable.”

When she closed the shed door all the way, we were plunged into darkness. I made a noise, and both Ellen and Becky moaned back. I’d kept my legs up higher as she’d duct-taped them to the chair. Now that she was gone, I did my best to work the tape free. All the while I was terrified that she would come back and find me.

I’d worked up quite a sweat and hadn’t made any headway. Then I remembered the row of tiaras along the wall. I knew immediately I was in Ellen’s storage unit. This is where she’d stored her secret past. Half hopping and half sliding, I worked my way over to the shelf. The crowns were about three inches above my bound hands.

Becky and Ellen were moaning at me, but I couldn’t make out a thing they had to say. I didn’t know if Gretchen would be gone for ten minutes or ten hours. I just knew I needed something sharp, and I needed it right then.

I hopped and scooted along the wall until I finally knocked one to the floor. Only problem, I couldn’t see where it had fallen. I cursed in my brain. There didn’t seem to be any solution except the obvious. I began rocking until the chair turned on its side. My head hit the concrete hard enough for me to lose consciousness for a few seconds. I rolled around until I finally hit the crown.

This was taking too flipping long. I had to move around until I had the right position. With my fingers gripping the
tiara, I began sawing at the duct tape. It felt like an eternity before I freed my hands.

“Ouch!” I cried as I ripped the duct tape from my mouth. I made quick work of freeing my ankles, and I was on my way to free my fellow captives when the aluminum door began to slide open.

I dove into the gowns. It was the only place to hide and not a very good one at that. She’d left the door ajar, so I knew she’d find me in a matter of seconds.

“Finley!” Gretchen called, clearly irritated. “You have ten seconds to show yourself, or I’ll stick the pin in Becky’s eye. Your choice.”

I stepped out and found Gretchen with the blade of her knife between her thumb and fingers. In a quick movement, she threw the knife, and I felt a burning sensation in my shoulder. Before I could process that she’d stabbed me, she was yanking the knife out. “Learned that in prison,” she said.

“Too bad you didn’t find Jesus.”

She lifted the bloody knife tip just under my chin. “No one likes a smart-ass.”

“No one likes to be stabbed, either.” I pressed my hand over the wound, and hurling seemed like a good idea. I gagged twice, then splattered Gretchen’s shoes.

I cried when she punched me in the arm close to my wound. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Sorry, I don’t know the etiquette when speaking to a psycho.”

“You have no idea. I’ve had twenty-two years to plot my revenge against Ellen. I dreamed of this.” She yanked me with
her, then took the knife and made a nasty slash across Ellen’s forearm. “And this time I won’t miss,” she snarled at Ellen.

“You missed something?” I asked, assuming the more I kept her talking, the more time I had to be alive.

“After Barry died, I went to Ellen’s house and shot her. She was supposed to die. Instead, she played dead, waited for me to leave, and then called the police. I was arrested, convicted, and served twenty-two years of a twenty-five-year sentence. Twenty-two years. Do you know how long that is when you’re stuck in a nine-by-six cage?”

“Why did they let you out?” I asked.

“Curious thing, aren’t you? Well, truth is, I became a model prisoner. Earned my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in computer sciences. Came in really handy when I had to track Ellen down. Didn’t take me long to find her new identity.”

“I read the article about your brother’s death. It was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t. She knew Barry had had too much to drink, but she still let him drive.”

Again Ellen moaned against the tape.

“She had no right to—”

Before I could process what was happening, I smelled the acrid scent of gunpowder, and Gretchen was on top of me. I felt a sharp pain in my left side, then everything went black.

Why do hospitals want your insurance information before they ask for your name?

I opened my eyes
and saw Liam sitting in a chair on the right of my bed. I knew from the beeping sounds and antiseptic smells that I was in the ER.

“Welcome back,” Liam said.

I started to get up, but I felt a nasty pinch at my side and shoulder. “Ouch!”

“You might want to stay still. You’ve got forty-seven stitches.”

With my good arm, I raked my hair back off my face. “I’m a little fuzzy.”

“No, you’re a little wacko. What were you thinking?”

“If you’re only here to chastise me, go away.”

He smiled. “After you called me sweetheart?”

“That was a clue.”

“I figured that out all by myself. Figured out that you wanted me to find your car and a key, and that there was something on the Crime Stoppers tape you wanted me to hear.”

“The ship’s bells in the background.”

“Got that. Victor Dane was confused at first, but when I read Jupiter, I figured that’s where you three were being held.”

“How are Ellen and Becky?”

“Becky is taking a shower, and Ellen is getting stitched up as we speak.”

“Liv and Jane?”

“Took a walk.”

Tony and Izzy pulled aside the curtain. Tony had a beautiful spray of roses. “How’s the patient?”

“I’ll live.”

Izzy looked terrified. I plastered a smile on my face. “It’s not as bad as it looks. They charge based on how many machines they connect.”

Izzy relaxed a bit. “Seriously, you were stabbed and everything?”

“Just grazed,” I lied. “Come here.”

Izzy moved to my bedside. I patted her hand. “I’m really okay, and luckily, so are my friends.”

“I was scared.”

“I was too, but it’s over now.”

She gave me a gentle hug, then said, “We brought you flowers. Dad says they’re your favorite.”

“Your dad is right. How was the dance?”

“Lindsey Hetzler and her boyfriend got caught making out, and she got suspended and—”

Tony stepped in and placed his hands on Izzy’s shoulders. “You can tell her everything later. Finley could probably use some rest.”

“Sorry,” Izzy said.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad Lindsey got hers.”

“Can I see you again soon?” Izzy asked.

“The minute they spring me from this place, I’ll give you a ring.”

“Feel better,” Tony said. There was an awkward few seconds when I sensed he wanted to do something. Squeeze my hand, hug me, kiss me? Something.

Once Tony and Izzy left, it was only Liam, me, and some tension.

“Who shot Gretchen?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. It does to me.”

“Leave it alone, Finley. It isn’t worth rehashing.”

“Was it you?”

“Izzy looked really worried. Maybe she should come back and sit with you for a while.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t want you to be grateful.”

“Why not?”

“I want you for a whole bunch of other reasons.”

“So what are you waiting for?”

“Well, you to get off the morphine drip for one.”

I smiled. “And since I’m sure my face is all scratched and horrid, you’d probably like to wait for that to heal, too.”

“You’re beautiful, scratches and all.”

“Then how about giving me a kiss?”

He stood and came to my side. “Oh, don’t worry. I will. Often. Get some rest.”

“I’d rather have a kiss.”

“You’re making it tough for me to walk away.”

“That’s the point, Liam. I don’t want you to walk away.”

He bent down and brushed his lips across my forehead. “I don’t want to walk away, but the cops have been waiting to talk to you.”

“They can wait a little longer.”

“So can I,” he said. Then he kissed my lips and walked out of the room.

Turn the page

for a sneak peek of

the next stylishly entertaining

Finley Anderson Tanner novel

BARGAIN HUNTING

from bestselling author

Rhonda Pollero

Coming soon from Gallery Books

My road to happiness is under construction.

I had forty-three seconds
left. My fingers were perched over the keyboard as I watched the time slowly tick away. eBay bidding is an art if you know what you’re doing and I was a maestro. I was bidding on the innards of a Rolex Ladies DateJust watch. If I won the auction, I’d make tremendous strides toward my build-my-dream-watch-from-scratch project. I desperately wanted the watch of my dreams and I’d spent two years gathering parts on eBay. At the rate I was going, I would have all the parts by the time I was thirty-five.

The clock ticked down below thirty seconds and I was not the high bidder. I was lulling my competition into submission and the plan was to swoop in at the last second and hopefully enter a bid high enough to win the auction.

My attention was on the computer but I became distracted when the security lights switched on and I heard a car pull into the drive of my Palm Beach cottage. If I had to guess, I’d
assume it was not one of my friends. No one I knew would drop by without calling. Especially not when it was nearly midnight. There was a knock at the door. “Hang on!” I called, my eyes fixed on the clock. There was a second knock, louder and more impatient.

Shit.
“Just a minute!” Or more accurately, seventeen seconds.

My front door, which I knew I’d locked, suddenly burst open. I looked up from my screen and found Liam McGarrity standing in my foyer. Liam was tall and handsome in a bad boy kinda way and I’d spent the better part of a year tamping down my attraction to him. I hadn’t been very successful. Only this time, my heart skipped a beat for a different reason. Liam was covered in blood, holding an equally bloody beach towel.

Forgetting that I was dressed in a pair of Victoria’s Secret boxers and a pair of layered spaghetti strapped tees in complimentary shades of pink, I stood when I read his expression. I’d never seen him looking anything other than sexy, arrogant, or amused. But now his piercing blue eyes were narrowed and etched with concern.

“I need help.”

“What happened?” I asked. “Did you hit an animal?”

Suddenly my eBay alert avatar announced, “Your auction has ended.” The comment barely registered.

He stood stiffly, his stained free hand dangling at his side. “I found a body.”

“So you came here? Shouldn’t you call the sheriff’s office or something?”

“The deceased was a member of the sheriff’s office. He was shot with my gun.”